


Belong With Me

by hazelthewitch



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alive Laura, Alternate Universe - High School, Angst, Broody Derek, Fluff, M/M, POV Derek, POV Stiles, Post Hale Fire, Ten Year Plan Stiles, Werewolf Derek
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-23
Updated: 2016-01-12
Packaged: 2018-04-16 21:17:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,843
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4640529
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hazelthewitch/pseuds/hazelthewitch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Two years after the Hale house fire, Derek returns to Beacon Hills with his letterman jacket traded in for black leather and his friendly eyes for glares. But Stiles is only five years into his ten year plan. He hasn't given up yet.</p><p>- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -</p><p>  <i>"Hey, Derek. You look..." </i></p><p>  <i>Derek side-stepped Stiles without a glance his way.</i></p><p>  <i>"...Like you're gonna ignore me."</i></p><p>  <i>Scott, the traitor, didn't even attempt to hide a smile.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> First draft is written and is about 18000 words. Will post each chapter as I edit it.  
>  **Warnings in end notes.**

2009

"Hey, Derek. You look..."

Derek side-stepped Stiles without a glance his way.

"...Like you're gonna ignore me."

Scott, the traitor, didn't even attempt to hide a smile.

"You're the cause of this, you know," Stiles grumbled at him.

"Uh huh."

"Dragging me down to your nerd depths. I'm a nerd by association. I've been scarlet-nerded by--"

"Whoa, who's that?"

Stiles jerked around to follow Scott's gaze down Beacon Hills' Main Street. A blond woman in a leather jacket leaned back against a sedan, one high heeled shoe kicked up against the door.

Derek stepped towards her. Her red lips curved in a predatory grin. Stiles narrowed his eyes.

"She's hot," Scott said helpfully.

"Shut up."

The woman hooked her long nails, the same fire red as lips, into the collar of Derek's letterman jacket. Derek just stared at her, mouth hung open, as she tugged him in closer.

"Do you think she's his girlfriend?" Scott asked.

"No way. She's, like, old. Ancient." The woman took Derek's lower lip between her teeth.

"She's not that old," Scott said.

They were full-on kissing now. And--was that someone's tongue? Whose tongue was that? Was that Derek's tongue?

"Um. Maybe we should stop watching?" Scott said. "Think we're starting to be kind of creepy here."

"Hey, it's not voyeurism if it's in the middle of the street. I can't be held responsible if exhibitionism is Derek's thing," Stiles said.

"Huh?" Scott said. But Stiles was busy wondering if he could be into exhibitionism too. He didn't think it was his thing. At least, not on the sidewalk across the street from the police station. But relationships were all about compromise, right?

The woman slid her hands beneath Derek's jacket and pulled him close enough to press her cleavage against his chest. Her black leather jacket was half-unzipped, and there was a lot of said cleavage showing through her v-neck.

"Come on, let's go." Scott tugged his arm.

"Scott," Stiles whined. Because while watching someone else make out with Derek made Stiles's chest clench, he was also half-hard. Before this moment, he hadn't even known it was possible to be jealous and turned on at the same time. But this was like seeing the guy you'd been fantasizing about for three years star in live porn right in front of you. He bit his lip as he watched Kate drag her lips down Derek's neck, slide her hands down to Derek's ass.

"Stiles."

"Dude, I'm just gathering data."

"Data," Scott repeated.

The blond woman pushed Derek down into the passenger seat of her car. She walked around to the driver's seat, blond curls bouncing down her shoulders. Derek's eyes followed her like he couldn't stand to be separated for the two seconds it took her get inside the car.

"Yes, Scott, data. I'm going to need it for my police report."

The woman leaned across the seats to kiss Derek again. When she pulled away, Derek looked like he was not in any way ready for the kiss to end. But she smirked at him with those red lips, and started the car.

Stiles let out a long sigh as her gray sedan sped past them, then finally let Scott drag him away.

"Police report?"

"Dude, are you just going to repeat everything I say? Keep up. She's got to be at least ten years older than us. Derek's 16. He's jailbait!" He caught Scott mouthing the word 'jailbait', but Stiles pressed on. "There are laws against this kind of thing!"

Stiles tripped and probably only managed not to fall because of Scott's insistent grip on his arm. He glared back at the crack in the sidewalk and decided he would include the poor sidewalk maintenance in his report.

"So?" Scott said. "You're going to ask your dad to make an arrest because a hot woman is making out with the boy you have a crush on?"

Stiles frowned at him.

"Who, by the way, doesn't even know your name? Or that you exist?"

"He knows I exist," Stiles protested as he followed Scott into Alfie's Comics. "Or do you not remember sixth grade?"

"When a heroic eighth grader saved you from Jackson after you put a slug in his backpack?" Scott raised an eyebrow. "No, remind me, Stiles, I've only heard the story three thousand times."

"Shut up," Stiles grumbled.

 

 

 

 

"Hold this," Stiles said the next day as he dropped The Language of Literature into Scott's arms. He slammed his locker door shut.

"Why don't you get your boyfriend to carry it?" Scott complained as he juggled the weight of the added textbook on top of the pile in his arms. "Except, wait, you'd have to actually talk to him to do that."

Stiles rolled his eyes. "Ten year plan, McCall. How many times must I--"

But then a tall girl slammed him into the wall of lockers as she sprinted past.

"Hey!" Stiles called after her once he'd regained his balance. She was shoving her way through students on their way to fourth period. "No running in the hall!"

But then another figure ran past, slamming Stiles back into the lockers. He recognized the broad shoulders stretching out the gray shirt. He started after them.

The girl burst through the front doors of the school, Derek following at her heels.

Stiles jogged through the path they'd made between the students, ignoring Scott's "Stiles, what are you doing?" from behind him.

Derek and the girl had stopped at the parking lot. Stiles could see that Derek was speaking, but he wasn't close enough to hear.

The girl suddenly tripped forward. Her hands gripped into Derek's arms to catch herself and Stiles realized he knew her. Tall, long brown hair, short skirt, knee-high boots. It was Laura Hale. Derek's older sister. Who'd graduated the year before. Who was now in community college in Beacon Heights studying art history and shut up, Scott, it wasn't stalkery to keep tabs on your future in-laws.

Derek was staring at Laura with a wide-eyed look Stiles had never seen on his face before. He looked... panicked.

Stiles stepped closer as Laura gave a muffled cry.

"Laura, what's happening? Laura?"

From his angle, Stiles could see the tight grimace on Laura's face, half-buried in Derek's shoulder. Her eyes were squeezed shut and she was gasping out breaths.

"Please, tell me what's going on," Derek pleaded.

Laura suddenly reared back from him with a sound almost like a growl. Her eyes burst open to reveal bright, glowing red.

Stiles blinked.

Derek stumbled back from her.

"No, Laura. No. This can't. It's not--" His voice broke. Laura's eyes were still glowing red. What the hell was happening.

"No," Derek repeated weakly.

Suddenly, Laura sprang into motion and took off running toward the forest beyond the lacrosse field.

Derek hesitated a moment and Stiles took another step towards him. But then Derek sprinted after her.

Stiles watched them disappear into the trees.


	2. Chapter 2

2011

"What? Lydia, no way!" Heads turned from at least three nearby cafeteria tables. Stiles didn't care. "Look, dare me to do anything else. I'll eat a jar of mayonnaise. Or do that cinnamon challenge thing. Or put laxatives in Harris's coffee tomorrow! I could totally do that."

"I don't think that'll help you pass chemistry," Lydia said calmly.

Stiles gritted his teeth and leaned down closer to the current bane of his existence. "Come on. This is extortion."

Lydia raised an unimpressed eyebrow. "Extortion implies an exchange of money, Stiles. This is coercion."

"Either way," Stiles said. "I'm not doing it."

"Fine. If you don't want my chem notes, I couldn't care less." She shrugged, tossing her hair back over her shoulder.

"That's not what I said," Stiles backtracked, flailing his arms in emphasis. "Look. I didn't just miss two days of school for the fun of it. I was sick! Deathly ill! I could have died."

"It's true," Scott piped up from beside Stiles. "He was all snotty and gross."

"See? Have some pity for a dying man," Stiles beseeched.

"I told you my price," Lydia said with a shrug.

"You don't want her notes, just get out of here." Jackson slouched back, arm slung around Lydia's shoulder. "The longer you and McCall stand there, the more you're making me lose my appetite."

"Stiles, I'm doing you a favor," Lydia continued. "You've been writing love sonnets about Derek since seventh grade. And now he's been back for three months and you haven't even talked to him."

"Keep your voice down!" Stiles shot a frantic look across the cafeteria. Derek was in his usual seat alone in the far corner. Keeping himself busy, as far as Stiles could tell, by aiming dark glares at anyone who came too close. At least he was oblivious to their conversation. Stiles turned back to Lydia and hissed, "Look, that was one time. And it was free verse. And it wasn't even about Derek. I mean, Derek who? Am I right?"

This earned him various looks of skepticism from the entire table, including Danny and Scott. Who, up until then, had both looked like they were trying their best to ignore the conversation entirely.

Stiles heaved a sigh. "Anyways, it's not my fault I haven't talked to him. If he'd come back pimply and overweight, I would have asked him out on the spot!"

"Figures that would be your type, Stilinski," Jackson sneered as Lydia rolled her eyes.

Derek Hale, unfortunately, had been the opposite of pimply and overweight when he'd returned to Beacon Hills at the beginning of the school year. Sure, he'd been good-looking before, and not just in Stiles's possibly biased opinion. He'd had an easy smile and dimples. He'd been captain of a winning lacrosse team. Popular but not all Jackson about it. He'd even had that hot older girlfriend.

But now? Now that he was back after two years who-knew-where, doing god-knows-what?

When he'd returned to Beacon Hills High at the beginning of the school year, Derek had traded his letterman jacket in for black leather. Traded his friendly smiles for dark glares. Add to that his fierce jawline and muscles that Stiles bet half the lacrosse team would kill to have. Even if Stiles had ever stood a chance with him, there was no way anything was going to happen now.

"Look," Stiles said placatingly. "I don't even know if he's interested in guys at all, ok? Danny won't tell me."

"Stiles, for the hundredth time, gaydar is not some sort of superpower," Danny said wearily. "And, if it was? You've been obsessed with another guy for five years. Would you have it, too?"

"Just grow some balls and go get rejected so we can stop hearing about your stupid crush," Jackson cut in.

"Look, I already told you you could have my notes." Scott shot him a plaintive look. "You don't have to do this."

But he'd already seen Scott's 'notes': a half page of incorrectly balanced equations and doodles of lacrosse equipment.

So Stiles heaved a dramatic sigh and turned back to Lydia. "Fine. You win. I'll do it."

There was a glint in her big brown eyes that Stiles hated with all his dying soul. But, really, the only thing worse than getting rejected by the love of his life would have been giving Harris the satisfaction of failing him.

So he grabbed Scott's arm and said, "Come on."

"Scott, stay here," Lydia ordered. "I know you two have this weird codependent relationship--"

"He's my brother. It's not weird," Stiles protested.

"Yeah," Scott said, crossing his arms.

"--but," Lydia continued. "Unless you're trying to negotiate a threesome, you're not taking your friend to go ask out your crush."

 

 

"Have it your way. Whatever," Derek heard the boy say. He glanced up to see Stiles hunch into himself and start making his way in Derek's direction.

Derek's mother had been strict about eavesdropping. It was the third rule of the house, after not hurting one's siblings -- especially Ellie, who'd been born human -- and never shifting in public.

But Talia Hale was dead. His only remaining sibling was an alpha werewolf. And, after two years on the run from hunters, eavesdropping had become a survival tactic.

Even if, since coming back to school, the conversations about him were less about hunting and how to track werewolves and more unflattering speculation about where he'd been the last two years or lascivious comments that made him feel sick to his stomach.

Stiles finally shuffled to a wary stop in front of Derek. His hands were stuffed deep into the pockets of his hoodie. He was wearing his customary two -- no, three -- layers underneath. As if no one had ever told the kid he lived in California.

"Um. Hi?" Stiles said.

Derek just raised an eyebrow. Stiles visibly gulped.

"So, pizza day, huh? Pretty much the best day of the week. I mean, the cheese is kind of weird. But it's still pizza and you can't go wrong with pizza, right?"

Derek glanced down at the congealing mess on his plate. When he looked back up, Stiles was fidgeting with his flannel -- layer number two under his hoodie -- and didn't look like he was in a hurry to get to the point. Derek fought back a sigh. Because the sooner the kid asked him out and fulfilled this stupid dare, the sooner Derek could say no. And the better for both of them.

So he said, "Is there a reason you're here?"

Stiles's eyes widened. "Yeah. Yes!" Another pause, and he blurted out, "I'm Stiles."

"I know."

"Oh."

Derek was confident no one who'd ever sat in a classroom with Stiles could not know who he was. He was a constant distraction. He bounced his leg, tapped his fingers, twirled his pencils, chewed his pen caps. And he was always talking. Answers to teachers that were rarely on topic and narrowly skirting detention. Cutting sarcasm aimed wide at their classmates. Excited whispers to the other kid Scott. Dark commentary muttered under his breath.

But now he was hunched over and nervous in a way Derek hadn't seen before. He didn't like it.

"Okay. Well," Stiles finally spoke up again. "I was going to ask you--but, why would you want to hang out with some stupid junior, anyways. Even if, I guess, you're a junior, now, too. Still. Or, again. But you aren't, really, and--"

Derek raised an eyebrow.

"Doyouwanttogooutwithme?" Stiles blurted, and then his eyes widened.

Derek opened his mouth to tell him no. Stiles was already stumbling back away from him, saying it was all right, to forget it.

But, somehow, what came out of Derek's mouth was: "Okay."

There was a long silence.

"Um. Wait. What?" Stiles darted glances all around them. "Is this a joke? Like some kind of YouTube prank or--"

"You're the one who asked me out. Was that a joke?" Because Derek already regretted his answer. The conversation on the other side of the cafeteria had made it sound like Stiles had been interested in him. But what if he was really only doing this for Lydia's notes and hadn't actually wanted him to say yes. Derek fisted his hands under the table, digging sharper than human fingernails into his palms. After everything, he should have been less of an idiot about these things.

But Stiles was exclaiming, "No! Just. I mean. Okay, then. So when is good for you. Tomorrow? No. Wait. Tomorrow's Friday. Of course you're going to be busy Friday night. Maybe--"

"Tomorrow's fine," Derek cut him off, because he suspected Stiles could have kept rambling until the bell rang.

"Um. So." Stiles's light brown eyes were wide as he ran his fingers over his short-clipped hair. "I guess I'll see you tomorrow, then?"

"You'll probably see me in English next period first," Derek pointed out. Stiles just looked confused. "With Ms. Fleming? Unless you're planning on ditching?"

"Oh, right, ha. English. Yes. I mean, no, no ditching happening here. No siree. I'll just. Yeah."

Stiles stumbled over the legs of the next table's bench as he hurried away.

Jesus. Derek stared back down at the sorry excuse for a lunch. What the hell had he just done.

 

 

"All right. Happy?"

Stiles thrust out his hand for Lydia's notes. She raised an eyebrow but pulled two neatly pressed papers out of her binder.

"Sorry, man." Scott gave him a sympathetic pat on the shoulder. "But at least you finally talked to him, right?"

"No. Um." Stiles glanced down at Lydia's neat outlines. Then bit his lip and looked back up at Scott. "I think we're going out tomorrow night?"

"What?" Scott yelled. Stiles cringed, but more at the volume than in offense. Scott didn't sound half as shocked as Stiles felt.

He hazarded a look back at the table. Danny's eyes had gone wide. Isaac was frowning at him. Jackson looked somewhere between confusion and anger. But that was pretty much his default, anyways.

Lydia just gave him a smug smirk.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!  
> Any feedback greatly appreciated.
> 
>  **Warnings**  
>  Underage - non-explicit Kate Argent/16 year old Derek, semi-explicit 18 year old Derek/17 year old Stiles  
> Angst - closer to canon than a typical high school AU; Hale House fire happens but no other major character death and violence is minimal


End file.
